Thought I'd start the Christmas cheer early

[Samuel]

His good lady wife had suggested that maybe this year he diet. That argument had lasted nearly a month. Now, wedged in tight, with panic rising, Christopher was wondering if she hadn’t been right. How long had he been here? Christopher tried to remember where he was on the list, but his reasoning was fighting a losing battle with his fear. He tried to force himself to remain calm, tried to focus, relax. Christopher knew he had lost control of events and in his current state would not be able to get a grip on things if he did not calm down. Stuck and unable to focus it took him sometime to realize there were sounds coming from nearby. He stopped to listen. He could distinguish four voices and music. Three voices were high pitched, two excited, one calm. The fourth voice was low pitched and the music was festive. He thought about calling for help, but his position was somewhere between fetal and funeral and he could make no sound louder than a small croak. Desperation clawed at Christopher’s mind and he renewed his struggles to move into a better position to call for help. The combination of fear, desperation and exertion must have overcome him, because the next thing Christopher knew was pain. It was the sore, cramping stiffness of being stuck in an uncomfortable position for hours. The voices and music were gone and Christopher did not remember hearing them go. He listened intently for some sign of hope. It came to him slowly; the sound of wood being moved and far off, the high pitched calm voice. Now, much closer, the low pitched voice calling back. It took only a moment to realize what was about to happen and with the realization came the smell, that small whiff of sulphur that follows the lighting of a match. Christopher thought he had known fear but the shear animal panic that smell brought on eclipsed everything he had felt before. Now, the smell of smoldering wood was surrounding him. Smoke started to clog his nose and throat. Heat started to prick his skin. He could feel his clothes and long white beard singe. It was becoming increasingly hard to breath. The prickle of heat became searing pain and the smoke was beginning to rasp his lungs. It would not be much longer and there was nothing Christopher Cringle could do…

Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night

[MrMaelstrom]

Originally Posted by Samuel

His good lady wife had suggested that maybe this year he diet.
That argument had lasted nearly a month. Now, wedged in tight, with panic rising, Christopher was wondering if she hadn’t been right. How long had he been here?
Christopher tried to remember where he was on the list, but his reasoning was fighting a losing battle with his fear. He tried to force himself to remain calm, tried to focus, relax. Christopher knew he had lost control of events and in his current state would not be able to get a grip on things if he did not calm down.
Stuck and unable to focus it took him sometime to realize there were sounds coming from nearby. He stopped to listen. He could distinguish four voices and music. Three voices were high pitched, two excited, one calm. The fourth voice was low pitched and the music was festive.
He thought about calling for help, but his position was somewhere between fetal and funeral and he could make no sound louder than a small croak. Desperation clawed at Christopher’s mind and he renewed his struggles to move into a better position to call for help.
The combination of fear, desperation and exertion must have overcome him, because the next thing Christopher knew was pain. It was the sore, cramping stiffness of being stuck in an uncomfortable position for hours. The voices and music were gone and Christopher did not remember hearing them go. He listened intently for some sign of hope.
It came to him slowly; the sound of wood being moved and far off, the high pitched calm voice. Now, much closer, the low pitched voice calling back. It took only a moment to realize what was about to happen and with the realization came the smell, that small whiff of sulphur that follows the lighting of a match.
Christopher thought he had known fear but the shear animal panic that smell brought on eclipsed everything he had felt before. Now, the smell of smoldering wood was surrounding him. Smoke started to clog his nose and throat. Heat started to prick his skin. He could feel his clothes and long white beard singe. It was becoming increasingly hard to breath. The prickle of heat became searing pain and the smoke was beginning to rasp his lungs. It would not be much longer and there was nothing Christopher Cringle could do…

Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night

How's this? Any better?

[MrMaelstrom]

And are you spending Christmas in Baghdad?

[Samuel]

Yes, but I'll be home soon after. My year is nearly up.

Thanks for the formatting help. My edit time ran out before I realized what I did.

[MrMaelstrom]

Yeah, it sucks, but you can always quote yourself, remove the quotes and do your own post-editing. That way, we can even tell how the thing evolved. I'd wait for Tstone's input, if he has any to offer. It's usually a lot more incisive, but a lot more practical and helpfull than most critiques.

Anyway, your point of view would most likely be appreciated in the political forums, as you have some personal experience or opinions from you life in recent months to contribute to some issues regarding this conflict. Then again, maybe not.
You should be warned that it gets quite heated in there. It's just a thought, and by no means should you take up my suggestion if it makes you feel uncomfortable (seen as you just got here), as it probably should.

[Juliet Bathory]

I can see the weight watchers ad already...

Santa's coffin is being drawn by his faithful reindeer. His picture sits atop his coffin. His smiling face beaming down on all those he loved followed by the slogan...

If only he had come to us sooner...

Weight Watchers... join today because tomorrow may be too late.

[Samuel]

I wonder if maybe we can talk them into running that ad?

[peeves]

Originally Posted by Samuel

I wonder if maybe we can talk them into running that ad?

sure you can just hold a knife to there throats